


The Ghost Haunting Manfred

by Grace_Logan



Category: Midnight Texas (TV)
Genre: Noisy Spirits, Pissy Manfred, Pissy from sleep deprivation, Sleep Deprivation, They're just trying to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-19 17:26:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16539005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grace_Logan/pseuds/Grace_Logan
Summary: The ghosts are getting noisy and keeping Manfred up. He's getting worn out and testier by the day. The residents of Midnight only want to help but they're so very far out of their depths with powers they've never encountered before.





	1. Chapter 1

As usual, the Midnight natives had gathered in the back room of Home Cookin’. Lemuel and Olivia had just shown up, forced to sit apart by lack of available chairs. Olivia took the closest seat to the entrance, between Fiji and Joe, and Lemuel made the trek around the table to slide in-between Manfred and Bobo. He sat heavily in the chair. Manfred saw it as a testament to how hungry Lem was, he himself being famished and scoffing down his own dinner as fast as he could. He came in hungry enough that he felt weak at the knees as well, having been haunted the past week by noisy ghosts and one creepily persistent silent bastard trying to possess him he'd been on guard and using up plenty of energy he usually didn't.

He could feel Lemuel’s eyes on him, he knew he was eating like a pig. He’d only just headed off the others when he and Olivia had joined them.

“It won’t run away Manfred.”

Manfred grunted affirmation but kept at his meal like he expected it to grow legs and jet and be told it was all he’d get for another week. Lemuel only huffed with amusement and went on to engage in Olivia and Fiji’s conversation about some soap opera they all watched. Lemuel was an episode behind it seemed, but from there on Manfred zoned out. Focused entirely on his food.

The table was rowdy, lively in a way it only was when everyone was together and it wasn’t just three or four of them around. Rounding up the crumbs of his meal Manfred hailed down a waitress and ordered another plate to raised eyebrows and no questions from everyone bar Lemuel.

“Manfred, are you quite alright? It seems as though you-“

“M’fine.” Manfred cut in around his last mouthful. And that drove all eyes to him. He wasn’t usually the interrupting kind. Especially not the snappish sort. He finished chewing and swallowed, a tiny flame of guilt lighting in his chest.

“Sorry.” He muttered, “Spirits been keeping me up.”

It was now that Fiji jumped in.

“But your place is a dead zone. Spirits can’t get in.” She said and Manfred scoffed feeling a blast of contempt hit him. They really had no idea.

“Yeah, doesn’t mean they don’t stand at the windows and scream all night. All day…”

Now came the looks of pity. From everyone. And to make it better, Manfred felt worse the nastier he got with them but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Even here the spirits were all over him, crowding as much as they could, chattering, moaning, groaning, some yelling. No screamers but he could tell some were getting close to the edge.

“Jesus Manfred, why didn’t you say anything? I could help.” Fiji said.

“Maybe you could. Maybe, but not definitely. Far as I know there’s no way to turn off my powers or block them out. They’ve just been, noisy, lately is all. They won’t talk to me so I can’t help them move on and a lot of them just _won’t shut up!_ ” He yelled the last part at a particularly loud ghost in the corner of the room. If he could strangle a ghost…

The rooms living, and undead, occupants threw the corner a glance but saw nothing, as per usual. Some days it was hard to believe Manfred wasn’t just crazy. From the looks of things this spirit had taken offence and had drawn Manfred into an argument about noise pollution and the human need to sleep.

Distracted, Manfred didn’t notice the group begin discussing ways to help him if they could. More and more spirits seemed to be joining the argument and between all of them they wound Manfred up like a spring-loaded jack in the box. Lemuel could feel Manfred’s emotions as though he were sitting next to a furnace ready to blow and came to his own conclusion to help him. He gripped Manfred’s wrist and leeched away his emotions and strength, hoping to put Manfred into an exhaustion induced sleep.

Only when Manfred realised what was happening, almost half a minute into Lem leeching him, he switched from anger to fear in an instant. The anger still there, still fueled by the ghosts still yelling at him. But the fear, so intense and ice cold. Lemuel knew he had made a mistake somehow, but he could also sense the fear wasn’t for him.

Manfred turned back to the table, went sheet white and jerked back, knocking over his chair and tripping himself up.

“Manfred!”

Lemuel was the only thing that kept him standing though he ripped his arm from Lem’s grip, eyes trained on something perhaps an arm’s length from his face. Something that terrified him and he looked ready to drop from Lem’s leeching.

He backed up into the wall very quickly, scaring himself. He looked wildly around, as though trapped, and then ran from the room to the shocked calls of his name.

He bolted through Home Cookin’, almost taking out a customer going to pay for their meal, out the doors, across the street and down the road to his house where he slammed the door shut behind him. Drew all the curtains, retreated to his room and cocooned himself in his dooner, covered that with an extra blanket and buried his head under two flimsy pillows.

The spirits still screamed and yelled at his windows, even more so now that he had argued with them. But beneath his fluffy protection he could relax enough to fall quickly into a deaf cloud of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

“What the hell was that?” Fiji asked, looking around the table as though expecting somebody to have and answer. Manfred had left a stunned silence in his wake. Always so calm in the face of demonic possession and yet today he could hardly stand what he dealt with on a daily basis.

Shrugs and ‘I don’t know’ went around the table, all sounded deeply concerned and some, deeply disturbed. Lemuel seemed the only one to have an idea.

“I believe my leeching him made it difficult for him to withstand the spirits.”

“Never could have guessed.” Olivia snarked at the same time Fiji asked,

“But why?”

And that was the question wasn’t it. Why was Manfred so overwhelmed? Lemuel did admit to leeching him quite quickly, it had definitely been a shock to Manfred’s body. But he’d been so agitated and he didn’t think he’d leech anything more than his emotion. Nor did he think he’d incite such a panic in their resident psychic.

“That, is a question for Manfred.”

Except Manfred wasn’t seen the next day, that night or the day after. They’d knocked on his door, banged on his windows and yelled through the glass. Tried to call, sent him an email, Fiji even tried to connect to his mind with her magic but came up against a solid, impenetrable wall.

For days nobody saw so much as a shadow of movement behind Manfred’s curtains. Fiji wasn’t sure Manfred was alive given that every piece of food she and Madonna had left on his door step was found later, untouched. Some even decayed beyond what was natural.

It was Lemuel who decided Manfred had out stayed his privacy. He wanted to go over himself and carry Manfred out if he had to but his land was a dead zone for the dead. He couldn’t enter. In his stead, with only minimal cajoling, was Olivia.

She didn’t knock, didn’t call out or call ahead. Olivia picked the lock, carefully swung the door open so it creaked softly rather than announcing her entrance, and stepped lightly across creaky floor boards to Manfred’s room.

The door was open. The room as silent and dark as it could be. Only the sound of soft breathing met her ears. The sight a cocoon of covers rising and falling. With his unconscious state, probably from more than sleepiness at this point Olivia thought, she had no trouble at all sneaking up to his bed. She probably could have made the entire trek through the house stomping around like an elephant and Manfred wouldn’t have so much as fluttered his eyelids.

She slipped her arms under Manfred’s burrito impression and lifted him almost without issue, the cumbersome nature of his blankets hampering her grip. He weighed about as much as a wet kitten to Olivia and as she slung him over her shoulder she felt a deeper concern taking over. Had Manfred even gotten out of bed in the last four days? Had he eaten anything at all? Gotten a drink?

There were no dirty dishes in his bedroom, living room or kitchen from what she had seen coming in. She wasn’t about to waste time to check either. Within a minute she had him out his door and in the pawn shop, Lem rising from his place behind the counter. Perhaps to offer her a hand or to follow her but she stared him down, said ‘I’ve got him’ and walked right past and up the stairs to her apartment. Lem dropped back into his seat, concern gnawing at him more so than his incessant hunger.

Upstairs, Olivia rolled Manfred out on her bed. He looked awful. Pale, dark, deep patches under his eyes. Lips chapped and cracked, dry as bone. Brow creased, most likely in pain. This was far from her area of expertise and Lemuel’s. Lem and her were not healers. She’d need Fiji, or maybe she should just drive Manfred down to Davy and get him in a hospital.

Hospital. She smirked at the thought and shook her head. At the fact the thought had even crossed her mind. A hospital. How many people had died in that hospital, even in a small place like Davy it had to be well into the hundreds, or thousands. And the age of everything in this part of Texas. Hadn’t Manfred said that spirits become more powerful with age? How often had some wondering psychic stopped to help those lingering souls? The sick always had unfinished business.

Stowing her thoughts for now she decided Fiji was needed immediately, despite the late hour. She’d be able to work some healing magic and revive Manfred enough so that he could wake up and they could feed him something. She’d make Fiji bring over some tea too. Chances were he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything substantial without being sick for a few days.

Back down stairs to the shop floor she told Lem she was getting Fiji and hurried out, up the street and walked right into her house. Fiji needed to learn to lock her door. Olivia waltzed right in, down the hall and shoved open Fiji’s bedroom door to find her fast asleep. Did everyone around here sleep like the dead, she wondered.

“Fiji!”

Simultaneously, Fiji snorted and jumped up wide awake in alarm. Her eyes fell on Olivia and she pressed a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart.

“Olivia, what are you doin’ here? It’s like, past twelve.”

“It’s eleven. You went home early. Lem was bugging me about Manfred, I have him in my apartment.”

Fiji scrunched her face.

“Lem? Ew, I didn’t need to know that.”

“Not Lem, Lem’s in the shop. I have Manfred. He needs help.”

“Oh, Manfred. How is he?” Fiji asked and jumped out of bed, slipping on a robe from her bedroom floor as she got up.

“Not so good. I don’t think he’s eaten in the last few days.” Olivia said, “Or drank anything,” she continued, “or moved really.”

Fiji sent her a worried frown.

“That’s terrible. Is he really sick? Does he need a hospital or something?” Fiji asked as she bustled around her room making herself presentable for a late-night outing. Fluffy Ugg Boots and a sweater over her dressing gown.

Then she hurried out of the room, down the hall and into her kitchen, Olivia following close behind.

“I thought of that but if his problem is dead people then a hospital isn’t where he should be going.”

She set to starting tea immediately, filling her kettle and lighting her stove.

“Yeah, right. I’m not sure how much I can help him though.” She said, pulling out various herbs, to promote healing and good health, and a travel mug.

Fiji picked at the spindly leaves of a herb as she considered Olivia’s point. Olivia’s version of good was breathing, bad, dead. She kept her back to Olivia, not wanting to show how scared she was. If she’d considered taking Manfred to a hospital, Fiji wasn’t sure she wanted to see what he looked like.

“What happened to the spell?” Olivia asked, “wasn’t that keeping all the spirits away from him.”

“The spell’s still there. But it’s only meant to keep them out of his house. If I do the whole property it could carry over to the Pawn shop because Bobo owns all the land. I don’t wanna put Lem out of his home.” Fiji said.

“Yeah, well nobody wants Manfred out of his mind either.” Olivia replied. Fiji heard her step closer but didn’t turn to her then, busying herself with the now whistling kettle. She drowned the herbs in boiling water and grabbed a filter with a small handle.

“I know that.” She said, pressing the herbs down. She wanted them to steep but if Manfred was as ill as Olivia made it seem it wasn’t good to wait. “But psychics are whole different ball game to witches. I just, I don’t know how to help him.”

“There has to be something.”

“Probably. Though Manfred told me most of his ancestors went crazy and killed themselves… Maybe it’s just inevitable.”

“The only thing that’s inevitable is death Feej. We can keep an eye on Manfred, make sure he doesn’t lose his mind.”

Finished with the tea Fiji finally turned to Olivia.

“Forever? We can’t do that! What if he leaves? What if he doesn’t tell us? What if we wake up one day and he’s just gone?”

“That could have been tomorrow if I hadn’t pulled Manfred out of that house. If he doesn’t come to us then that’s our problem. And he’s just one guy. Even if he leaves there’s plenty of ways to keep track of him and to keep in contact. It’s the twenty first century. Why are you fighting this so much?”

Fiji spun back to the tea, robe flaring out. She pressed the filter in harder and screwed on the lid, tight.

“I just. I don’t wanna watch him die or, or go crazy and not be able to do anything about it. It’s scary. I don’t know how to help Manfred.”

“He’s still a human Feej. I’m sure the normal stuff will work.”

“Yeah, short term. But I can’t stave off his psychic headaches or help his psychic overload with tea.” Fiji snapped. Tea finished Fiji swept passed Olivia and had her follow her out.

“We’ll find something. Don’t you have anything on suppressing powers?”

Fiji wracked her mind as they walked. Did she have something that would work for Manfred? She had books on blocking powers, though many of them were from the witch trials and detailed only the most horrific way to separate a witch’s power from them.

There was one she remembered, now that she thought about it, from many years ago now. A diary by a concerned father. Their child had shown powers beyond anything he or his coven had ever seen before. They’d made the child some kind of talisman that had helped. She felt hope bloom in her chest, something she’d sorely missed since Manfred had disappeared.

“There might be something. It’d have to be tested a few times and adjusted but there is something that might help.”

“Good, do that.” Olivia said, ending the conversation in its tracks.

They walked the rest of the way to the Pawn shop in silence, it wasn’t far, but it gave Fiji time to feel just awful about the argument. She hated that she felt so insecure about this. Just because she didn’t know how to help. That never meant that she couldn’t, only that she hadn’t tried everything she could.

She greeted Lem as they passed, receiving one in return before he watched them ascend the stairs. As they walked in Olivia noted the far neater layout of Manfred and his blankets. He was propped up on pillows, there was water on the night stand and a light throw blanket over him, almost tucked in. He looked cleaner to, and as she glanced around she found the corner of a cloth hung over the rim of a bucket peeking out from under their bed. She rolled her eyes. What Lem’s deal was with Manfred she didn’t think she’d ever figure out. It was like he’d adopted him as their puppy or something.

Manfred, Fiji thought, looked like death. Pale, clammy, hollowed cheeks and the deepest eye bags she’d ever seen. He barely seemed to be breathing.

“Oh my god. He looks awful.” Fiji rushed to his side and placed a hand over his brow. It was freezing. So freezing he should have been shivering. But he wasn’t. She tapped his chest and called his name, trying to rouse him. But he didn’t.

She placed the tea on the night stand, put her hands either side of Manfred’s temples and stopped.

“Help me sit him up more.” She said. Olivia, however, didn’t need help to move a limp body. She grabbed him by his biceps and hauled him up gracelessly, a tad too rough for Fiji.

“The last thing he needs right now is a broken arm.” She chided. Olivia shrugged and got out of Fiji’s way. Returning to the foot of the bed to watch.

Fiji placed her hands either side of Manfred’s head again and began a spell. One she used to heal the whole body on the inside. She could feel the damage done in the last few days. She could see it. Scratch marks only just peeking out of his hair by his ears. The sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. The deathly pallor of his skin. The body crying out for any kind of sustenance.

His body soaked up the energy, routing it through everything. So desperate was it for anything at all it couldn’t focus on any one part of him that needed the most attention. She’d never dealt with anything like this before. Other bodies allowed her to direct the flow of energy at her leisure. Manfred had a death grip on everything going in and out of his body.

No wonder he was still unconscious. The energy required to do that to the minuet extent he was, was more than he naturally produced in a day. He was draining himself.

Fiji buckled down and put all she could into her spell. Into Manfred, and was rewarded for her efforts with a raspy gasp and Manfred shoving her away. She stumbled back, trod of her gown and fell on her ass with a startled yelp. Manfred pressed himself into the headboard, face pinched in pain. His eyes roamed the room, passed over Olivia and kept going, seemingly not even registering her. Perhaps not recognising that she was a live person.

Lem appeared at Olivia’s side and took in the scene. Manfred was shrinking in on himself. Curling up, hands over his ears, fingers clenched in his shocking bed head, muttering to himself and flinching away from something. From this far Lemuel could hear Manfred as though he were right next to him. It was almost a chant, ‘stay away, get away from me, stay out of me, you don’t have permission, get out, get out, _get out!_ ’

Lem approached Manfred slowly. Coming up on the side of the bed where his eyes were trained on a spirit. He crouched down to Manfred’s eye level and tried to catch his eye. He didn’t want to reach for him, worried that Manfred would bolt if he tried. Manfred’s eyes slipped between Lemuel and whoever, whatever, he was seeing beside him.

“Manfred.”

His eyes snapped to him, a whisper of his name on his lips. Croaky and confused. He didn’t take his hands off his ears, but his fingers eased their death grip on his hair. Lem smiled and offered him the water he’d placed on the night stand but Manfred flinched back. Eyes flicking all around. His face scrunched up in agony.

“ _Get away!_ ” He wasn’t yelling at Lem. He shuffled along the head of the bed awkwardly, trying to get away from what was trying to get him.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. Stop saying name! _Get out!_ ”

“Manfred!”

“GO TO HELL!”

Manfred doubled over with a strangled scream, his whole body feeling like someone had stuffed his insides with red hot coal and clamped down on him with a vice. He trembled like he was going to shake apart and with him, the building shook as well. The walls cracked and windows shattered. Floorboards splintered and both drinks made for him burst out of containment.

Even Olivia could hear the screams of the dead as they were forced into hell, if that really was where Manfred was sending them. Manfred’s own screams were forcibly choked off and muted as they could be. Even now he tried to wrangle control over himself. Lem had his own hands blocking his ears now.

Then all at once, it was over. Manfred slumped boneless to the sheets. The building stopped quaking and the screams faded away. They all took a moment to gather themselves.

“Is. Is he still alive?” Fiji whispered. Glued to her place on the floor. She wouldn’t even attempt to get up for another few minutes, her own legs weak in fear.

Lem lifted one hand from his ears, testing the air before relaxing as Olivia went to check Manfred. She crawled across the bed, jabbed her fingers into his neck and waited with bated breath.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four…

_Bubump. Bubump. Bubump. Bubump._

“He’s alive.”

“Oh thank god.”

The room relaxed. Olivia got off the bed and began shifting Manfred to a less crumpled position and Lem moved to help. Dragging Manfred’s body to the center of the bed they got him settled and Lem straightened the blanket. Genuinely tucking him in this time. Olivia smirked at him, though he didn’t notice, and walked around the bed to help Fiji to her feet as he fussed over Manfred’s comfort.

“You good Fiji?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I can’t believe that. I heard them going.” Fiji said. She patted down her robe, as though she could have gotten dirty from Olivia’s immaculate floor. Olivia gave her a look and Fiji shrugged.

“Do you think he’ll wake up?” Fiji asked.

Olivia looked over Manfred, assessing his health on his appearance. He looked like hell now. Sweaty, shaking and so very, _very_ ill. She would like to say yes. Give Manfred the benefit of the doubt. But he looked as though he’d pass on any second.

Lemuel, however, thought different.

“His heart beat is strong. I believe he will be fine. Maybe even wake soon.” He said.

“Well he better.” Fiji replied. “Put that tea in the fridge and make sure it’s the first thing he gets when he wakes up. If he goes any longer without we might have to take him to a hospital anyway.”

“Of course. Thank you Fiji.” She knew a dismissal when she heard it. Lemuel hadn’t so much as looked at her, or away from Manfred.

“Right, yeah no problem. I’ll see you guys tomorrow I guess.”

“Night Feej. And lock your door.” Olivia called after her. Fiji waved over her shoulder and disappeared down the stairs. Olivia and Lem remained in silence. Olivia watching Lem, and Lem watching Manfred.

“This isn’t all about that debt you own his grandmother, right?” She asked. Lem shook his head and finally turned to her.

“No. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to be good at taking care of himself. Given his nature it worries me. Though Xylda does have a bit to do with it. I won’t have her grandson dying on my watch.”

“Yeah well right now it’s my watch. You’re supposed to be watching the shop.”

“Right. Keep an eye on him. We don’t want him wondering around if he wakes alone.” Lemuel gave one last glance to Manfred, picked up Fiji’s tea and began to leave. Olivia sat herself in a comfortable arm chair overlooking the room. Settling in for a long night.

“See you in the morning.”

“Good night Olivia.”

She slumped in her chair, set her eyes on Manfred and didn’t move an inch for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was about four times the size of the previous chapter...


End file.
